Oh, my Girl!
by totalphangirl
Summary: We all know Lucy poisoned herself after her rape. But was it just for that reason? was she really as weak and helpless as Mrs. Lovett made out? this story is set directly after Lucy's rape. Contains some sexual moments (again I tried to tone these down but it is far more graphic than last time!) reviews would be nice to see. requests are welcome. (rated T but some scenes may be M)
1. paranoia

**The aftermath of Lucy Barker's rape, told from her perspective. I know I have been touching up on this part of the story a lot lately, but I just think it is rather downplayed… It is a traumatic part of the musical that is slightly glossed over. (BTW I own nothing!)**

After I walked home, there was nothing I could do but cry. Having long since woken up Johanna she cried with me. I was not her normal whinging; it felt like she understood my pain, even though she understood none of it. After a night of restless sleep I awoke to a day that lasted years. The whole injustice of the situation made me feel sick, and for the whole day afterwards I lay in bed uselessly, the mattress soggy with blood and tears. I didn't move for anything, not even to feed my own child, and instead endured the humiliation of my crimson-soaked bed sheets. I daren't move for the pain in my stomach which overpowered my usual monthly cramps and took it to a whole new level. I had not felt pain like this since the birth of Johanna therefor I spent the rest of the afternoon and the endless night paranoid that Turpin had landed me pregnant with his child.

The next day I heaved myself out of bed, feeling quite different. As I went to stand over by the mirror I noticed my revealing corset that had somehow untied and felt like slapping myself. 'It's _your _fault!' I hissed at my glowering, messy reflection. 'You're the one who paraded yourself around like a whore… No wonder he was provoked! No wonder you _slut!'_ The words rolled off my tongue like snakes, hissing and seething. I snatched the comb from my dresser and raked it through my bedraggled hair. After shedding the white dress I filled a shallow basin with cold water and scrubbed at my body, especially the part he hurt, but seemed not to succeed in removing the dried blood. After what felt like hours I sat down on the wooden floor and accepted the fact that I would never get his feeling out of me. He was still inside… a part of him was inside me in a place where I could never get it back. I would never get my dignity back.

Nellie had been very kind to me after the party. She fed Johanna her bottle and attempted to feed me her meat pies (although I was touched I refused to go near them.) 'Call me if you need anything,' she'd insisted. 'I mean it; anything you want or need or… just tell me, ok?' I wanted Turpin dead. No I didn't. Yes I did. I wanted to slice into him and open up his insides so that he would understand the pain I felt in my stomach. I wanted to destroy everything he cared about (if he cared about anything,) so that he would understand the pain in my chest. I wanted something new every day: I would want Benjamin back so that he could hold me and hold our daughter. I wanted to find Benjamin and blame him for not being there. I wanted to feel beautiful and loved. I wanted to be ugly and plain so that no man would ever want to hurt me again. I wanted the pain to leave. I wanted the pain to stay so I'd learn never to seduce a man again. I wanted to hold Johanna and act like her mother again. I wanted to force Johanna to stop crying and show her what real pain was. I wanted all these things that Nellie could never give me.

Each day was battle of the consciences. Some days I would be weak and watery, floating on a cloud or lying around in bed, feeling sorry for myself. Other days I would be sharp and cold, snapping at people and hating myself. I blamed everyone: I blamed all the people at the party for not stopping Turpin. I blamed Nellie for allowing me to go to the party. I even blamed _Johanna_ for not stopping me which was crazy. Johanna had gotten on my nerves lately. She seemed to cry all the time. I didn't feel sorry for her at all. I didn't coo over her or sing to her. If I would bother with her then I'd simply stopper her mouth with a bottle of milk and hope for the best. Nellie would usually care for Johanna. One day when Nellie wasn't there I was pushed to my breaking point.

I was asleep in bed when all of a sudden I was overcome with this dreadful power and burning. There was music pumping in the background and black-red figures dancing. The music was foreshadowing, brimming with anticipation that something awful was about to happen. Then it happened all over again. There was a scream out of nowhere and then someone grabbed my wrists. It was much more vivid when I wasn't intoxicated. I could feel every movement of his body. It was hard and painful and the bleeding and the _screaming_ wouldn't stop. I couldn't even wriggle because I was absolutely immobilized, and the more the shrill screaming happened the longer it took. It lasted for hours. His face was red and he was sweating. He was looking me in the eyes, right in the eyes, perfect eye-contact and he was grinning. I couldn't move my head so I just had to look into this man's eyes as he pumped harder and faster and ruptured something painful inside of me. The minute I was able to move my movements were jolting, like a stuck record, which triggered more pleasure for him. The act had gotten more involved. He'd somehow managed to peel away all my underclothes and all of his too, so our bottom halves were entirely on show. My jolting movements weren't precise enough to release me and all I wanted was for the screaming to stop because I knew that somehow that was what controlled it. The next time I looked down it was even worse. I was utterly naked. My breasts were on show to the whole crowd, and they seemed somehow larger as he looked at them. His orgasm was much more involved too. It was a mere gasp and a shudder last time but now he knew I wasn't moving and so he released one of my wrists and kneaded my bare breast. People whooped and cheered. He was getting so fast now that I could barely see him. He was a blur, and he was still looking at me in a repulsive manner. Veins throbbed in his neck and his eyes puffed, sweat gathering at the edges of his hair. He released the tiniest grunt and then suddenly yelped. It was an animalistic noise. He arched his back and shuddered massively but I could still see his cold, cold eyes looking into mine as he spilt his seed into me. And the screaming…

The screaming merged into sobbing. It was Johanna. Johanna had controlled my pain. At the time it seemed to make so much_ sense._ I climbed out of bed, shaking with rage and also fear. I had just relived my pain and it was all her fault. I seized Johanna's squirming body and slapped her hard across both cheeks, before releasing her into the cot with a thump and going back to bed.

Each night I seemed to re-visit the party. Each time would be different. Sometimes it would take hours and sometimes it would take minutes. Turpin would seize me from different parts of the body: sometimes it would be my wrists, other times it would be my collar or skirt and often I would just be _there _on the sofa and he would be on top of me. Once he got up behind me wrapped a hand around my mouth so I couldn't scream and that was probably the scariest as I actually felt like I was being suffocated before I awoke groggily and found I had been screaming into my pillow. Sometimes Johanna would play a part in it, and her sobs would be the substitute of my screams. I would see someone in the crowd holding her and she would just hang there, staring at me with her piercing blue eyes as she watched her mother get raped. I would sometimes see Turpin and me on the sofa, our bodies tangled, but I could still _feel_ it, like I was there underneath him.

I refused to leave the shop. Nellie was forced to go to the market each day for me. Children would throw stones at the barber's shop. I would rock in a corner with Johanna clutched to my chest, scared that one of the stones would smash a window and hurt her. It seemed the whole of London knew of my misfortunes. They would invite themselves into Mrs. Lovett's shop and then charge up the stairs, armed with mouthful of abuse. Nellie would shoo them out as I stood uselessly in the corner, one arm shielding my daughter's crib.

Johanna was beginning to grow. Her blond hair had sprouted out suddenly until it was long enough for me to comb. She had begun to walk, using Benjamin's chair as support. She had swopped her usual baby gurgles for half-baked sentences or sloppily-pronounced words like 'Mama.' She woke up less in the night which is what I cared about mostly. I had progressed a little too. I stopped lying around in bed all day and instead got up and dressed and washed. My awful flashbacks happened much less, if ever, and my mood had changed immensely since the night of the party. The town slowly forgot my troubles. Or so I thought.

Nellie had left for the night again, so it was just Johanna and I. It was night-time when The Man came. There was a creak from downstairs, like a door opening. I clenched my sheets in my fist out of worry and also hope; was in Benjamin? I slowly swung my legs out of bed and crept across the floorboards with the same tentativeness he was maintaining. All of a sudden the door flew open and a stocky-built man was standing there, a stupid grin on his face. 'Come here!' he lunged towards me and seized hold of my wrists, forcing me onto the bed.

'No!' I screamed when I saw what he was doing. 'Get away from me!'

'Shut up! Shut up you slut!' he was unbuckling his belt. Soon his trousers were off and he stood there in his draws, his pants wrapped around his ankles. He took another swaggering step towards me and I noticed the strong whiff of alcohol coming from him. He snaked his hands into his pants and slowly began massaging, back and forth, back and forth. His eyes rolled in bliss and he made an unfamiliar sound, low, grunting. There was a stranger in my room doing this in front of my baby.

'Stop it!' I bellowed. 'Stop… please… my daughter!' he began to move more vigorously, looking me straight in the eyes like Turpin had done in my nightmares. It was only then who I noticed who this man was. 'Beadle?'

'Shut up I said!' he snapped. 'Now lie down; I'm ready.' There was a bulge in his pants, and the fabric moved slowly along with his hand. He finished and wiped his palm on my bed. I made a disgusted noise and cocked my head to one side. I could see movement out of the corner of my eye. Not this again. Not this! Anything but this! He was strolling quickly towards me, his feet heavy on the wooden floor. I needed to do something… Benjamin's razor smiled at me, illuminated by the moonlight. I quickly unhooked it from its case and wrenched it open. I swung my arm up in front of me so the razor was parallel with Beadle's nose.

'Don't take one step closer!' I hissed in what I hoped was a threatening voice.

'You wouldn't dare,' he said uncertainly.

'Wouldn't I? Get out. Get out now and leave both of us alone.' He didn't move. With a flash of the razor there was a clean red slice across Beadle's cheek. He yelped in pain. 'GET OUT NOW!' he stumbled away from us and descended down the stairs. I crumpled onto the floor and sobbed along with Johanna. The razor had skidded out of my hand and was halfway across the floor, coated with blood. Through my tears I heard piercing voices from outside. Turpin.

'So then, did you?' he asked, amusement riddling his voice. Beadle was hesitant.

'Couldn't keep her hands off me!' he lied, and the two walked home cackling.


	2. insanity

**Well, this chapter goes kind of insane! I'm trying to write from the perspective of a crazy person and it kind of sounds like she's on drugs! Thank you for reading my FanFiction guys, I really appreciate it. Leave any reviews or ask me any requests; I have tons of ideas for FanFictions but I need to know what you guys want to read! Thank you.**

Two

I slid a fingernail between the halves of the small brown sachet, taking all the time in the world. I'd helped myself to some gin and a tumbler from Nellie's shop, to help the taste of the poison go down with less pain. For the first time in months I'd visited the apothecary on the corner of Fleet Street. When I'd asked for arsenic the man behind the counter simply looked at me and obeyed, saying only: it won't take long. That was all. He knew what I was about to do, but he didn't stop me.

I'd been praying that someone would go ahead and stop me. It was crazy, for I wanted to end this cruel, painful circle of life more than anything. But I was scared.

Telling myself to hurry up I split the sachet and upended it into my drink in one smooth move. The yellow powder clouded the alcohol and looked almost… pretty… inviting. I sat staring for a while until it had dissolved, reminding myself why I had to do this. It was the only way. After the incident with Beadle history would repeat itself: the stone-throwing, the rumors, the abuse. It would all happen again. Now Johanna was beginning to understand the world she would receive abuse too. What kind of a life would we lead then? I paced around the small room, tracing a hand over the wrought-iron crib that belonged to my Johanna. My fingers found the textured wallpaper and the small square window of which Turpin had waited at. I told myself to have one last look at everything until the end. My daughter was not one of these things. If I saw her curious blue eyes again then I would give up on the idea completely. She was positioned on the armchair of Nellie's living room along with a letter quickly explaining what had happened.

I looked around the empty room one last time, closed my eyes and downed the drink.

And a boiling hot coldness filled me…

It was,

Swilling through my bones,

And

Soaking my skin,

And

I was overcome with it…

Fire in my throat…

Weights in my scalp…

Dragging,

Dragging me backwards,

Into…

Red.

Black.

Dancing figures.

Turpin.

The couch.

My skirts all rumpled

And

My corset untied

And

Turpin, moving slowly above me.

And the scream.

The SCREAM.

An explosion in my

Head.

And between my

Legs.

As he finished.

And breathed heavily.

Like an animal.

The wallpaper looks funny. Like blood. I don't want blood so I rip it. Only the

Corners.

I rip the corners of the wallpaper and it starts spinnin'

There's a woman where the mirror should be.

As I walk towards her she walks towards me.

And

Her eyes

Their _huge._

Her mouth is open.

She's me.

There's a person in my head, trying to get out.

It's

Kicking.

I don't like the woman with the big eyes.

So

I punch her.

She's hard

Like

Glass

As the mirror shatters.

The room is

Ruined

But it's

Red.

Black.

Dancing.

Spinning.

STOP!

SCREAMING!

The room is not right.

There are stairs.

I think they're not pretending

I think they're there.

Because

Stairs

Are

Safe!

I run down the stairs.

Into the

Street.

And people stare.

So I snap at them.

I need something.

Money.

Everyone needs money.

How will I

LIVE

Without

MONEY?

'Alms? Alms?'

Do I want to live?

Yes

I

Do!

No

I

Don't!

Beadle forces

Me onto

The bed.

Back

And

Forth

Back

And

Forth.

In front of

My

Baby girl.

Alms!

Alms!

I'm desperate.

Alms!

It's been two weeks.

Mrs. Lovett gave my

Baby

Away.

To

_Them._

Turpin,

He won't

_Hold_

Her.

He makes the

Maid

Hold her

Like

She's

Dirty.

I want to

Hold

My daughter.

I want Alms.

Alms ALMS ALMS ALMS ALMS!

I know this

Man

I tell him and he

Ignores

Me.

**THE END**


End file.
